


Cursed-ish?

by Meilan_Firaga, VisiblePetrichor



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Bad Flirting, Curses, F/F, Flirting, Mild gross body descriptions, Movie monsters - Freeform, Multi, Mummy AU, Spooky, monster au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisiblePetrichor/pseuds/VisiblePetrichor
Summary: Something strange is happening in Hell's Kitchen. Bodies are turning up for a few days each month, and Matt Murdock has managed to link their manner of death to an old, seemingly innocuous S.H.I.E.L.D. file tied to the Black Widow. He's called her in to get to the bottom of the matter, but it doesn't exactly end like he expects.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Matt Murdock/Natasha Romanov, Darcy Lewis/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 15
Kudos: 38
Collections: The Monster Mash





	Cursed-ish?

**Author's Note:**

> For The Darcyverse 2020 Darcylvania Event.
> 
> Moodboard by VisiblePetrichor.  
> Fic by Meilan_Firaga.

As a rule, Natasha didn’t make a habit of venturing out into the greater New York City area. The Avengers were based out of the Tower, but aside from alien invasions they knew the city was regularly protected by a local group and none of them were about to step on toes. Particularly when some of those toes belonged to a man they literally called a devil. But it was the devil who asked for Natasha’s help, and she wasn’t about to turn him down.

Especially not when she needed to know just how much he’d figured out.

Matt Murdock had a tendency to try and do everything on his own. Him reaching out was a red flag in and of itself. Even more intriguing was the reason why he was reaching for her. All of Natasha’s secrets came out when she dumped all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files on the web, and people had immediately zeroed in on all the assassinations—the red in her ledger in bold print on the front pages. Murdock, though, was focused on something everyone else had written off as just another weird minor mission. 

“Lower Saxony at the turn of the millenium isn’t usually what people want to talk about when they call me up.”

Across the rooftop, the devil of Hell’s Kitchen didn’t even flinch at her sudden appearance. “Well,” he mused from a crouch at the roof’s edge, “most people get distracted. I’m told you’re very pretty.”

“Stop pretending,” Nat sassed back. She came up beside him and sat, her feet dangling over the roof’s edge. “Your secrets might not have been dumped on the internet, but that doesn’t mean I’m not aware of them. World on fire, right?” She barrelled through his answering silence. “Not that it matters. What is it about that mission that’s sparked your interest?”

“The mission report called it an archaeological discovery,” he began, shifting to sit beside her. “A body found in a bog. If that’s all it was, why was an agent of your caliber involved?”

“Could have been punishment. I was new. To S.H.I.E.L.D., anyway”

“I think it’s because they wanted a professional to help them handle what came out of that bog.” It was strange to watch his face for tells behind the mask without eyes. “And now I’ve called you because I think it found its way to Hell’s Kitchen.”

For the next half hour Nat listened while he gave her the rundown of the events that had led to his phone call. For the last two months bodies had started turning up in Hell’s Kitchen on the days surrounding the New Moon. The victims weren’t exactly model citizens. They were drug dealers and loan sharks. A few minor hitmen. Most of them even had ties that eventually lead back to Wilson Fisk in some way, but he was concerned the pattern wouldn’t hold. No matter how much Natasha tried to reassure him that she was positive he’d only see the worst of the worst falling victim he wasn’t comfortable with letting it run loose. He was convinced the vagueness of that file was disguising a monster, and he wanted her to help him track it down. With a sigh, she agreed, inwardly cursing the day she agreed to keep what happened at the bog in Germany off the record.

It was the night of the new moon, which meant the creature would absolutely be on the prowl. Murdock had identified a pattern of locations, and they found their way to a warehouse by the docks just in time to catch it in the act of finishing off a heroin dealer. Whatever the Daredevil might have expected, it was not what they found in the middle of that warehouse. When they entered, the pulse of the dealer was frantic, fear setting it to race like a horse on a track. He tried to focus his senses, zeroing in on the victim, but the crazy exchange between them threw everything out of whack. If he wasn’t mistaken, the creature was a twisted, terrifying amalgamation of human. It smelled like the rot of a grave and the potent chemical scent of a swamp, with organs that pulsed in a manner inconsistent with every living thing he’d ever encountered. One of its feet faced backwards, twisted in the middle of the calf like it had been torqued in a machine. He could hear the crinkling of dried flesh as she moved. Yes, she. In spite of all the evidence telling Matt it was a monster, he knew it was somehow also a woman.

In a matter of seconds it was as if the heroin dealer rotted away to a desiccated corpse. Even as his life faded away to nothing the creature’s form filled out further. The erratic thrum of the organs shifted and settled into a normal rhythm. A heartbeat surfaced, steady and sure. The scent of rot faded until it was barely perceptible, replaced instead with a woman’s musk and an eerily familiar perfume.

“Well,” it began, its voice turning Matt’s blood to ice when he realized that he  _ recognized _ it, “I wish I could say this isn’t what it looks like, but… uh… it’s exactly what it looks like. Or senses like. Whatever the correct terminology is for a blind dude that can see.”

“Darcy Lewis,” Matt breathed, his voice shaking just a bit. “This isn’t possible.”

Behind him, Nat snorted. “Aliens destroyed half of New York because a Norse god made the wrong friends. Nothing’s impossible.”

“You knew it would be her.”

“I did.” The barest rustle of leather told him the Black Widow had shrugged. “It’s not exactly something you can explain to someone without first hand experience.”

Across the room, Darcy dropped the remains of the drug dealer. “I take it if I don’t make with the explaining you’re going to make a big deal out of this.”

“You’re killing people. In  _ my city _ ,” Matt growled. He tightened his grip on the sticks in his hands. “It had better be one hell of an explanation.”

“Well, first of all, duder here killed a few people himself before I caught up to him.” Darcy kicked at the body with her twisted foot and Matt caught a scent of dangerous chemicals as one of the pouches of heroin in his pocket ruptured. “Been lacing his product. Didn’t care who he killed. You mind if I sit? This bum leg isn’t great for standing.” She took a few shuffling steps away from the corpse and dropped to the floor, folding her legs beneath her. “Long story short is that I was a grad student on a sorority sightseeing trip to Germany after the fall of the Berlin Wall. I knew my sisters weren’t my biggest fans, but I didn’t realize they were in the market for curses and human sacrifices. Nine years later, S.H.I.E.L.D. pulls me out of the bog, curse kicks in, and I’ve been on the survival game ever since.”

“That’s not going to be enough of an explanation for me.”

Natasha took over, walking slowly until she stood off to his right about halfway across the room, her arms spread wide. “It’s been S.H.I.E.L.D.’s prerogative to take in supernatural assets for decades. When the curse initially kicked in she couldn’t even talk to us until she’d killed six people. After that she was quite reasonable.”

“I never wanted to be evil,” Darcy quipped. “I wanted to be a social worker. It was the freakin’ Heathers that made me, well, icky.” She shrugged her shoulders and Matt could actually hear bones that weren’t well-secured shifting as she did. “For three months every few years I return to rotting and have to ‘feed’ on the energy of the living.” Matt opened his mouth to ask about the significance of time, but she cut him off. “Don’t ask about the timing. The specifics are a comedy of errors worthy of an Adam Sandler movie.”

“I’m afraid you lose me on movie references.” Matt snarked. “I don’t have much reason for them.”

“Look, curses aren’t meant to be thrown out there by amateurs. All the nice, polished curse results you get in the movies happen because the people doing the cursing knew what they were doing.” She gestured broadly down the length of her body, from the still-papery flesh across the side of her face to the twist in her leg just below the knee. “This disaster is what your ‘hey, wonder what this’ll do’ kind of curses get you. I could have had some Brendan Fraser Mummy Imhotep vibes, but instead I’m stuck with this shit.”

“And S.H.I.E.L.D. decided she could be useful,” Natasha added. “The number of years between her required feedings haven’t fallen into a pattern yet, but they tried to point her in the direction of the bad guys whenever they cropped up.” She sighed ruffling her own hair. “After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell I promised to keep her safe. It’s not ideal, but we’re not just going to condemn her back to the bog.”

“Which I am very grateful for.” Darcy clapped her hands. “I don’t want to hurt people, but if I’ve got to I’d rather it be bad people.” Something in her pulse spiked, and Matt tilted his head to focus his senses. She was smiling in Natasha’s direction. The same kind of smile Foggy always gave Karen. “The company’s not too bad, either.” 

“Why Hell’s Kitchen?”

Darcy shrugged, turning her attention back to him. “Convenience. I work for Doctor Jane Foster, and she’s currently sequestered at Avengers Tower in Manhattan. When Britney, Whitney, and Amber’s fucked up voodoo bullshit kicked in again this time I needed an option that was close. Nat figured lending a hand in the Kitchen couldn’t hurt.” She clambered back to her feet, righting her twisted leg with a sickening crunch as she did so. “One more night and a few more bad guys and I’ll be out of your hair.” This time, the spike in her pulse and appraising smile weren’t directed at Natasha, but at him. “Unless, of course, you’d be up for dinner. Package deal with Nat, of course.”

Needless to say, it was not at all how Matt Murdock expected his night to go.


End file.
